by Ava Frost
He straightened up suddenly, leaving me bereft of his warmth. I shivered as he slid his t-shirt over his head and arched my back when he reached underneath me to pull down the long zipper down the back of my dress. From there it was easy to slide the dress off, leaving me chilly and exposed.
My heart pounded in my ears. It was completely silent except for the sounds of our breathing and the whispering of rustling fabric. He suddenly stopped, kneeling between my thighs, and stared down at me. He was so still.
“What?” I asked, nearly trembling with nerves. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” He said. “Me. You...you're translucent.”
“I'm what?” I looked down. Sure, I was pale, but it was winter. We were all pale. “Sorry?”
He laughed, hovering over me to kiss my forehead. An oddly familial gesture given our position. “Don't apologize. You're beautiful. It's just...you look delicate.” The look on his face was like a little boy, fresh from roughhousing in the mud, being told he has to sit on a white couch without getting it dirty.
I groaned, wrapping my legs around his hips and pulling his bulk against me. “Cole. Please.” I laughed and wiggled my hips slightly against his. “I'm an adult woman in good health. I can handle it.”
Still, he hesitated.
“Are you going to make me beg?”
Finally, the grin crept back onto his lips. “I'd like to hear that.”
I didn't have time to respond because he was leaving a trail of kisses down my stomach. His stubble tickled the planes of my belly and I squirmed. When he trailed those same feathery kisses along the insides of my thighs I couldn't contain the nervous, ticklish giggles. He gripped me tight though, not letting me wiggle away from him when he hooked a finger in the waist of my panties and tugged them down. I gasped when he slowly slid his tongue along my sex, my toes curling as I spread my legs wider for him. If he was offering, I wasn't going to say no.
I'd been correct when I hypothesized that his excellent kissing would translate to equally excellent techniques elsewhere. He seemed to be able to sense with eagle-like precision when I was just nearing the brink, and would back off, agonizingly kissing my thighs until he could wind me back up again.
“Cole. Please. You're killing me.” I finally conceded, my voice coming out even raspier and more desperate than I'd expected.
I felt more than heard him chuckle and finally, finally, he drew me over the edge. My back arched off the bed and my head tilted back as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure washed over me. My fingers buried in his hair, gripping tight as I cried out in abandon.
He didn't stop until I collapsed, limp, back into the softness of the mattress. Such a feeling of comfort and the simple, uncomplicated joy of satisfaction came over me. It had been far too long. I wrapped my arms warmly around him when he came up to kiss and nip at my neck, sighing contentedly. For a while he merely laid atop me, warming my exposed skin. But before too long, his kisses turned more urgent and I smiled, reaching over to my bedside table, rummaging awkwardly in the drawer to find the foil-wrapped object of my search. I placed the condom to the side before brazenly unzipping Cole's jeans and wrapping my fingers around his rigid length, eliciting a delicious, masculine groan against the erogenous skin of my neck.
While I slid his jeans and boxers over his thighs, he reached underneath me and unhooked my bra, tossing it aside and covering my breasts with his large, rough hands. It was difficult to let go of him long enough for him to straighten up and slide the condom on, but the reward of the sweet ache and gentle stretching when he slid into me was more than worth it. His breath was ragged in my ear, and the muscles in his arms twitched with the effort it was taking for him to go slowly. Part of me wanted to let my eyes flutter closed to surrender more fully to the feeling of closeness and fullness as he slid gently in and out of me, but I was too entranced by the way his jaw flexed, and the gorgeous muscled landscape of his bare shoulders and chest.
My hands freely explored his body as he brought himself to the edge. When he came, shuddering and panting, I held him close against me, tasting the salty heat of his jawline.
He collapsed on top of me, wrapping his arms around me and laying his head on my breast. I smiled beatifically, stroking my fingers through his hair as he listened to my heartbeat. We lay there in comfortable silence for a long while. Suddenly the bed felt very comfortable, and the heat radiating from his body was more reassuring and relaxing than any feather blanket. He seemed to feel the same because when he rolled off of me, it was only to pull my blankets over both of us before wrapping me up in a warm embrace. My body curled silently against his, snug and fitting like a puzzle piece. He tucked my head under his chin after pressing a kiss to the part in my hair and tickled his fingertips up and down my back as I succumbed to sleep.
Chapter 5
When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was that I was naked. I never sleep naked. I love shopping for cute, comfy nightgowns and PJ's too much for that. The second thing I noticed was that I was alone. I bolted upright, sudden despair hitting me like a train. I knew that I'd gone into this expecting it to be a one-time thing, not a proposition for a serious relationship. But the thought of never making love with Cole again was more upsetting to me than hearing that my ex was cheating had been.
I looked around in a panic and noticed a note taped to my mirror. Wrapping my blankets, still imbued with the smoky scent of male skin, tightly around me, I padded over to the mirror, tearing the note down.
He had boyish, messy handwriting, and he'd used my lip liner as a pencil, but I could forgive him that for the contents of the note.
“I'm not abandoning you. Car maintenance waits for no man. I didn't want to wake you up just to tell you I had to go to work. Call.”
A phone number was written underneath. I breathed a sigh of relief. I glanced at the clock, it was ten in the morning, probably too early for a lunch break phone call.
I was loathe to wash the scent of him off of me, but my oily hair rudely refused to take that into consideration and I was forced to shower. I stood in the hot stream, breathing in the steam, and reliving the previous night. I'd been excited about the date, giddily anxious about the chance that we might have sex but thinking it a remote possibility. How wrong I'd been. I only entertained for a moment the thought that I should feel ashamed for sleeping with a man whose last name I didn't even know. It didn't stick. I was happy. He wanted to see me again. I couldn't be ashamed of the fact that he'd played me like a violin and I was more sexually satisfied than I had been perhaps my whole adult life.
Cole. Cole. Cole.
His name played through my mind like a mantra and I couldn't get his face, his arms, his scent, out of my mind. I felt like a besotted teen. I felt free.
All morning I wandered around my apartment in a kind of daze. I ate and did a bit of housework. I paid bills. I caught the end of the morning news. My mind was miles away though, and I wore a stupid smile on my face like a shiny new accessory.
At noon, I felt it safe to call him. My heart thudded in my chest with the anticipation of hearing his voice. My stomach did a flip when he answered the phone, saying the name of the shop followed by a polite “How can I help you?”
“Cole?” I asked.
“Annabeth.” My name on his lips was like a song. I was long gone. I knew this would be disastrous in the end, but it was too late. “I want you to know that I felt bad leaving you like that.”
“I forgive you.”
“When can I see you again?”
“When do you get off work?”
I could hear him smiling. “It's hard to say. It depends on how busy we are. Can I call you when I'm free?”
“Sure.”
“Annabeth?”
I grinned. “Keep saying my name. I like how it sounds.”
He laughed. “Annabeth. Annabeth. I'm going to call you as soon as I can. But I have to go now, Annabeth.”
“Alright. See you soon, Cole.”
“Bye, Annabeth.”
We were both laughing when the call ended. My smile faltered afterward, though. Suddenly my apartment seemed very empty. It was the weekend and I had nothing to do except wait for him to call. Even I, in my smitten state, took issue with being so dependent on the companionship of a man. Even if that man was a dangerous, sexy, motorcycle-riding stud.
In the interim, I visited my parents. My childhood home was just down the road, close enough to walk even in cold weather, and I often ate there. I think my mom could tell that something was up with me, but I didn't tell her anything. While I was at my parent's prim, wholesome, country-styled home, the inappropriateness of a relationship with a man like Cole hit me with sudden force. I was an adult, in truth, but that hardly meant that my parents had relinquished all hold on opinions about my personal life, and there would be no polite silence from their end if they were ever introduced to Cole.
Even as I checked my phone for messages, I pushed those thoughts out of my head. It was just a fling. That was all I had signed up for and probably all that Cole would offer. No need to overthink things and make it more complicated than it needed to be.
All the same, I nearly jumped out of my seat when I got the coveted call from him later that night.
“Annabeth.” I could hear his smile, and it shone out with friendly radiance in my mind's eye.
“Cole.” I said, trying to sound cool.
“Do you want to come to the club?”
“Dancing? I don't know...” I had hoped for something a little more intimate. And I'd already used my one club-appropriate dress.
“Not dancing. The motorcycle club. The uh...headquarters I guess.”
“Uhhhh.....” I hesitated. “Is that a good idea? I mean...Billy. And I don't really fit in.”
“This is different from meeting on neutral ground. If you are with me, no one will bother you. It's just, I'm expected. But I want to see you again.”
I was still more then hesitant.
“It won't be for long.”
I smiled. “Alright. I trust you.”
“Are you sure?” He seemed to be questioning my intelligence for trusting him, but I couldn't help it. I did.
“Yeah. It'll be fine.”
“Can I pick you up in an hour?”
I agreed and spent the next hour scrambling around. It was easier to dress for this date. More casual. But I was still so nervous that I spent an irrational amount of time anxiously curling my hair to keep my mind and hands busy.
He knocked on my door, rather than using the doorbell. His knocks were strong and loud without being rude. His eyes lit up when he saw me, in my snug jeans and simple black t-shirt.
“Just a sec.” I said, gathering up my warm coat and bag.
When he led me down to the parking lot, I scanned for his bike but didn't see it. He led me, instead, to a dirty but dependable looking pickup truck.
“You have a truck?” I asked.
“It's supposed to snow. I can easily brave the cold, but risking our lives on icy roads on our second date isn't my idea of romantic.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.”
I anxiously twirled my thumbs together as he drove. True to his word, it started snowing only a few minutes in. Thick, fluffy flakes filled the air suddenly, accumulating quickly on the road.
"Good call on the truck." I said, anxious to fill the warm silence between us.
He only smiled in response. I looked over at him, studying his profile, and saw that he looked nervous.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to come with you?"
"Yeah. Yeah it's fine." He said unconvincingly. I bit my lip and turned my gaze back to the road. I was even more afraid now than ever. Despite what he said, it seemed like he was having second thoughts.
My opinion didn't change when he barely spoke the whole drive out there. He did take my hand though, forcing me to stop twiddling them. He gave it a warm squeeze, rubbing his thumb calmingly over my knuckles.
When we got there, he opened the door for me and firmly placed his arm over my shoulders as we walked in.
It looked like someone’s house. A kind of run down, scary looking place in a suburban area. It wasn't decorated, and contained only the barest furniture. It looked like a place where no woman had ever set foot.
I had been expecting more people to be there, but only a few men were gathered in the bare kitchen. There were open cans of beer scattered about and they leaned against the table or counter, talking. Their conversation hushed when Cole entered with me under his wing.
"Who's this?" A fat, imposing man asked, looking at me with open disdain.
"Don't worry about it. She's with me." Cold said decisively.
"She your sister?" Another of the men asked, a shorter one with early onset balding.
They laughed. I squirmed. Cole could sense my nervousness and pulled me closer against him.
"Don't worry about them. They just have never seen a woman in real life before."
The men laughed again, but I was not put much at ease. Cole leaned over and whispered in my ear.
"You are welcome to wait in the living room if you prefer. I just have some business to do, then we can leave."
I looked up at him and nodded, eager to get away from this group of men whose culture and jokes I didn't understand. I hurried to the living room and sat down gingerly on a dilapidated couch. Looking around, I could only describe this so called "headquarters" as a crack house. It was scary, and brought back to the forefront of my attention that Cole existed in a whole different world than me. I'd been so sure of myself, so confident and assured of my safety with him, but now I wasn't so sure. I shuddered, thinking about what sort of "business" he was attending to.
I distracted myself by messing around on my phone. The storm outside intensified, making me feel even more trapped in this uncomfortable situation. I couldn't quite make out the words, and I didn't attempt to, but I could hear the sounds of male voices filtering through the hallway.
Finally, Cole emerged. He was alone, for which I was thankful.
"All done." He said with a smile.
I jumped up off the smoky couch.
"Can we leave?" I asked.
His smile faded and he nodded. "Yeah. Of course. Let's go."
When we stepped out onto the front porch, we were buffeted by the harsh winds, thick with heavy snow.
"Fuck." I heard him exclaim.
"Jesus! What a storm!" I shouted over the howling winds.
We hurried to the truck and he turned it on, blasting the heater. I held my hands out in front of the heating fan. Cole was laughing, shaking his head at the weather. His almost childlike excitement about the snowstorm seemed so antithetical to the environment we had just left. Did he really fit in with those kinds of men? He seemed so different when he was alone with me. I watched him, wondering how many personalities and identities he had hidden in him.
"I was kind of planning on taking you into town, but I have to admit that I'm not that confident in this truck in this kind of weather."
"I don't want to go back in there. Please. I'm sorry. That house scares me."
He looked at me with a serious expression in his eyes. Was it shame? Or was he disappointed in me? Maybe he was annoyed at my being so sensitive.
"Yeah. Yeah that's fine. Can I take you to my place? It's close."
I nodded with an appreciative look. He smiled at me and we took off. He had to drive slowly because the visibility was terrible, and even in his truck I could feel the wind buffeting us. He seemed calm as ever but I was gripping the door handle.
Finally he pulled into a driveway.
"We made it." He said triumphantly. We braced ourselves and made a run for the front door.
Stepping into the warmth of his home I breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a small little house, not much larger than my apartment. And, although it lacked decoration or any feminine touch, it was clean and well lit, once he flipped on the lights.
"Sit down, I'll get us drinks. Are you hungry?" He said.
I stripped off my fluffy, unflattering coat and laid it over the back of a recliner. I shook my head. "Just drinks is fine. I didn't know if we'd be eating and didn't want to show up hungry so I've already had dinner."
He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen and I sat down on his couch. It was much nicer than the one at the other house. Not new, really. None of his furniture looked particularly new, but he was apparently a neat man. It was obviously lived in, but nothing had been left out in disarray.
"How long have you lived here." I asked when he returned handing me a glass of beer.
